Brass'ka
by Synbou
Summary: AU. Alternate ending to Real Life, Tom fails to get out of the astro-eddy and disappear in front of the bridge crew
1. Default Chapter

Series: Voyager   
Season: 3   
Pairing: P, All, hints of P/T   
Part: 1/?   
Rating: PG  
  
SYNOPSIS: AU. Alternate ending to *Real Life*, Tom fails to get  
out of the astro-eddy and disappear in front of the bridge crew  
  
Brass'ka   
By Synbou and Leone   
synbou@hotmail.com   
leone@gondor.adsl.dk  
  
***  
  
3 years earlier...  
  
*I have given this some careful thought, Captain, and the only  
way that I can get out of here is the same way that I got in,*  
Tom concluded.  
  
*Through one of the astro-eddies? If I had a better idea I  
suggest it, but I don't. It's your call, Tom,* Janeway told him.  
  
*It doesn't like seems that I have much choice,* Tom said.  
  
*Another eddy is forming,* Harry informed them.  
  
*Captain! I suggest that you take Voyager away from here. This  
one seems to be whopper, the biggest eddy we've seen so far,*  
  
*We are not leaving, Tom,* she said. *We have to stay close if we  
stand a chance of beaming you out of there.*  
  
*Captain,* came Tuvok's voice from behind her. *The eddy is  
starting to dissipate.*  
  
*Tom, how long before you clear the eddy?* she asked with a  
strained voice.  
  
*It'd better be soon!* he replied. *The hull is starting to  
buckle,* he told her. *... Captain! I'm being pulled back in.*  
  
*Report!* Janeway demanded.  
  
*The eddy, it's gone ... and so is the shuttle,* Harry said with  
shock.  
  
***  
  
Now...  
  
Ensign Kim's personal log  
  
They say that it gets easier after awhile. Adapting to the loss  
of someone you cared about, I mean. I must be different because  
it has been three years since Tom's disappearance and I certainly  
did not got used to not having him around anymore. True, I never  
got used to not having my parents and Libby in my life anymore  
either. However, it did get better once I received news from   
them from the Hirogen communication array. At least, I know that  
my parents are well, and that Libby moved on with her life and is  
happy. It surely helped me moved on with my life. Now, that is a  
funny concept...  
  
Losing Tom was a different matter. When the Caretaker's array  
propelled us into the Delta Quadrant, *we* were ripped away from  
our families. When the astro-eddy closed onto Tom's shuttle,  
tearing it apart, Tom was taken away from *us*. Suddenly, I had a  
taste of what my folks back home most have been through. Then  
again, they had not been there to see us being helplessly ripped  
away as we saw Tom disappear into that spacial typhoon, leaving  
only debris behind.  
  
Tom had also received news from home. And not from just anybody  
I might add, from his father. Captain Janeway had allowed me to  
read the letter, hoping that I could find some closure in the  
Admiral's words. The letter's format had been a little too  
formal at first, but it had turned out to be a very warm and  
compassionate one. It was meant as truce during which the Admiral  
was admitting that turning his back on his beloved and only son  
was the worst mistake of his life. The news of Tom being still  
alive, after all these years of thinking that he was dead, was  
like an answered prayer for a second chance. The Admiral hoped  
his letter would have been seen as the first step of many in the  
reconciliation process. God knew that both of them had a long  
way to go, but Owen Paris intended to hold on to his second  
chance as firmly as he could.  
  
But Tom, like to many others, was gone. There would not be any  
second chances. It broke our hearts as we knew how much Tom would  
have liked to make amends with his father, even if it would have  
scared the hell out of him -- not a fact that Tom would have  
readily let known. Still...  
  
The letter from the Admiral had affected the Captain the most. As  
she had taken onto herself to redeem the rebellious Thomas  
Eugene Paris, a friendship had grew between her and Voyager's  
Chief Pilot. It had been the same special kind of affection,  
always kept at a respectful distance, that had developed between  
her mentor and herself. She had sincerely hoped that she would of  
have a chance to reunite the father and the son together.  
  
Now, as I think back to our fortunate encounter with the T'Ejil  
freighter early today, I'm starting to believe that there is such  
a thing as answers to hopes and prayers.  
  
On the screen of my monitor, there is a picture of my best friend  
taken on that very same freighter only a month ago. His  
appearance changed a bit, but his blue eyes are still the same.  
  
I haven't felt this happy in a long time. Tom is alive out  
there, and he has been searching and waiting for us.  
  
***  
  
3 years earlier  
  
The doors leading to Terminal Three opened and Prefect Em'Aris  
walked on the upper level of the huge cargo bay. From his  
particular position, the director of the International Space  
Station Brass'Ka had a good view of the activities on the lower  
deck.  
  
A small vessel had been pulled into the cargo bay moments ago. In  
spite the fact that it was heavily damaged, the Prefect could  
tell with certitude that it was not a regional design. Sensors  
had indicated the faint presence of life signs on board, he could  
only hope that it was not too late to save the pilot.  
  
As Em'Aris joined the rest of the personnel gathered around the  
craft, he was met by the Chief engineer. "Noel, what can you tell  
me?"  
  
"It's a Federation shuttlecraft from the Alpha Quadrant," the  
male ex-Borg told him, his tone reflecting his amazement .  
  
"The Alpha Quadrant?" echoed the Prefect. "It's a long way from  
home. Is it secured?"  
  
"It is, Sir. We're about ready to open the arch," the engineer  
confirmed.  
  
"Go ahead," he authorized. "I fear for the pilot's life."  
  
Without wasting any more time, Noel opened the shuttle's arch.  
Preceded by a security officer, he and a physician entered into  
the dark smoky shuttle. Long minutes passed before Em'Aris saw  
them exit with the unconscious pilot laid on a stretcher. He was  
dressed into a black and red suit. He had fair features on which  
dark red blood was contrasting. As the med team quickly rushed  
him to the Medical Clinic, Em'Aris stayed behind with Noel.  
  
"He's human," the man voiced, allowing himself a small smile.  
  
"Is he going to be all right?" Em'Aris inquired.  
  
"I don't know. It doesn't look good. He has a severe head  
trauma." Noel bit his lower lip. "God, I hope that he'll make it.  
I haven't seen one of my own in such a long time..."  
  
"The doctors will do their best, Noel. Have faith," the older man  
said confidently, patting his friend on the shoulder. He looked  
back at the craft. "Will the shuttle be salvageable?"  
  
Noel sighed heavily. "There's nothing left intact. It's a miracle  
the core and hull didn't breach before he got out of that eddy.  
I'll have to see what I can download from the computer. With a  
little luck, we'll learn who this guy is and where he is from."  
  
"The way he flew through that eddy was impressive," Em'Aris told  
the engineer. "He seems to be quite a pilot."  
  
****  
  
Now  
  
Captain's personal Log supplemental.  
  
We'll be in range of the Van'ski asteroid belt in a few hours. On  
the other side, we should find the space station Brass'ka and  
with it a long lost friend. Against all odds, Thomas Eugene Paris  
survived the spacial eddy that had took him away from us three  
years ago. He has been patiently waiting for us to catch up with  
him at this space station ever since. Rumor has it that he made a  
good life for himself as Brass'ka's Chief Flight Officer, no  
less. I am not surprised. Tom proven himself to be a resourceful  
and a dedicated officer. Maybe, most of all, a loyal and caring  
friend.  
  
Losing Tom Paris had a huge impact on this crew. I wonder if Tom  
knew just how appreciated he had become over the years. By being  
given a little trust and support, the brash young man that had  
boarded this ship had revealed himself be the anti-thesis of what  
we had thought him to be. The mercenary turned out to dedicated  
Starfleet officer. The traitor was in reality a loyal friend  
whose sarcastic nature had been hiding a keen sense of humor.  
  
With Tom's disappearance, we also had lost a ray of sunshine  
which had kept reminding us that whatever happened, whatever you  
did, there was always a bright side to everything. Had Tom not  
have this innate ability to bring the worse situations to its  
simplest components, to transform dramas into jokes to relieve  
tension, I doubt that he would have been the survivor that he is.  
This attitude of his had worked for him and many of his   
antagonists had to admit that it had worked for them too. It  
surely had done so for me.  
  
I haven't felt so much anticipation and enthusiasm in a long  
time. I want to have my ray of sunshine back.  
  
***  
  
3 years earlier  
  
After 8.3 hours of patient waiting, Noel was finally rewarded by  
a set of confused blue eyes opening on him. Following the  
Starfleet's officer arrival, the engineer had been able to  
download what was left of the shuttlecraft's memory core. It had  
not told him much, but at least he had a name.  
  
"Tom," he called softly. "Don't be afraid. You're safe."  
  
Tom's eyes slowly focused on him.  
  
"My name is Noel. I'm human like you. If you wonder what this  
thing is on my temple," he indicated with one hand. "It's a Borg  
implant. I was Borg. Oh, but don't worry the Borg are not here.  
We are on the space station Brass'ka. You got injured in a  
shuttlecraft accident. I don't know how you did it, but you  
managed to fly through a spacial eddy."  
  
"Noel," came Doctor Lalika's voice. "You're bombarding this poor  
man with information. Give him some time to get his bearings  
back."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," Noel told the tall woman a bit embarrassed.  
  
"Greeting Tom," the doctor said. "I'm Lalika, the director of  
this medical center." As she looked over her patient's vital  
signs, she went on: "You have to excuse Noel, he has been  
waiting for you to awake for a very long time." She looked down  
at him and brushed his pale cheek. "You sustained quite sever  
injuries to your head, spinal cord, and abdominal cavity. Most  
of it has already been treated. However, it will take more time  
for you're spine to heal. So, don't be alarmed if you can't feel  
parts of your body right now."  
  
Tom tried to say something, but virtually no sound came out.  
  
"Don't try to speak. You'll be able to soon when you get some of  
your strength back," Lalika told him.  
  
"Vo...Vo-ya-ger...?" he finally managed to ask.  
  
Lalika looked up at Noel who came back closer.  
  
"Voyager isn't in this system, Tom," Noel answered him. "It seems  
that you traveled quite a bit through that spacial eddy. I'm not  
sure how far away Voyager is, but I'm trying to find out, okay?"  
  
Tom responded with a small smile.  
  
"Go back to sleep, now," Doctor Lalika ordered with a gentle  
smile. "We will be there when you will wake up."  
  
Tom's eyes close and sleep took him away almost immediately.  
  
Doctor Lalika then walked away, ready to attend to another  
patient. Noel followed her with a perplex expression on his face.  
  
"Why didn't you told him about the spinal clamp?" he asked.  
  
"He is still too weak for that Noel," she explained.  
  
"But you have to tell him soon," Noel insisted not for the first  
time. "The sooner, the better."  
  
"I am aware of that, Noel. But we can't do it now. Everything is  
going to be fine. Do not worry," she assured him.  
  
With that, she moved on to care for someone else.  
  
Noel resigned himself to wait some more. He knew that the human  
body was a complicated piece of machinery, with its own quirks  
and quarks. Sometimes the best remedy was to let the body heal  
itself. If it was what the doctor ordered, who was he to  
contradict her. After all, even if he possessed much of the  
Borg's medical knowledge, he was still an engineer, not a doctor.  
  
***  
  
Now  
  
Commander Chakotay's personal log:  
  
After Tom disappeared and was presumed dead three years ago, Kes  
asked the senior staff, the Doctor and Neelix to meet her in  
conference room one. She didn't tell us why, but let us know it  
was important.  
  
When everyone was gathered, she told us that Tom had asked her to  
give each one of us a memento, something to remember him by, if  
anything ever happened to him. He had told her he didn't want to  
leave messages, because he thought they were too impersonal.  
  
I was surprised, and I thought that the others were too, the  
exception being Harry Kim, who knew Tom better than anyone else  
on the ship. It was standard Starfleet procedure to record an  
"After I'm dead" message to those left behind, but obviously Tom  
had once again disregarded SOP.  
  
After Kes had told us why she had asked us to be present, she  
fulfilled Tom's request and gave us each whatever he had left for  
us. Not surprisingly, Kathryn was the first to get her gift. As  
none of the things were wrapped, we all saw what Tom had left to  
the others. Kathryn received a book of Irish poetry and an Irish  
cross. With tears in her eyes, Kathryn told us that the cross was  
to wish the bearer good luck.  
  
Next was, also unsurprisingly, Harry Kim. For him, Tom had left  
his music collection and a framed 2-D picture of Tom with his  
family. Kes told him that Tom had said that if there was anything  
else in his quarters Harry wanted to keep, he could have it.  
  
After Harry Kim came Neelix. Tom had left him a cookbook with  
recipes for all kinds of different pizzas, something that Neelix  
appreciated. He was always pleased to get new recipes. He loved  
to cook and new recipes gave him something new to experiment  
with. He also got Tom's favorite Hawaiian shirt, the one he had  
often worn to the Resort. It was another thing that Neelix  
appreciated. He'd always admired that shirt for it was colorful,  
and it was only fitting that he would get it. Also, I couldn't  
imagine who else would wear it.  
  
Then it was B'Elanna's turn. She got a small statuette of a cute  
little pig, which made us all chuckle. Everyone on the ship knew  
how often B'Elanna had called Tom a pig. She also received a  
ceremonial Klingon dagger, making us remember how Tom always  
tried to make her accept her Klingon side.  
  
I was next. The first thing Kes handed me was Tom's favorite pool  
cue. It made me smile, remembering all the times we had played in  
Sandrine's. Especially the first time Kathryn was there and the  
little stunt she pulled, making us believe that she had never  
played before, then cleaning the table. And the time when Neelix  
and Tuvok were physically merged in the transporter, creating  
Tuvix, who had whipped our butts at the pool table. Other times,  
it had just been Tom and me playing; sometimes late at night when  
we couldn't sleep.  
  
Then Kes gave me the other thing Tom had left me, and for a  
moment I stared at it blankly, wondering where he had gotten a  
pair of Ferengi ears. Then I remembered and couldn't help  
laughing. It was the incident with the two Ferengi playing gods  
on that planet. Now, why Tom had kept those ears was beyond me,  
but I was glad he had, and also glad that he wanted me to have  
them. It made me remember the fun we'd had on that away mission.  
Oh, it had been serious, especially when we discovered what was  
going on, but it had its share of funny moments, not something  
hat usually happened on away missions.  
  
Tuvok got a Rubik's Cube. It had six different-colored sides,   
each one divided into small squares. Kes told him that Tom had  
done that, and that Tuvok was supposed to turn the sides so each  
one was a solid color. She said that Tom had told her that the  
Rubik's Cubes had been quite popular in the late twentieth  
century.  
  
When we had all admired the cube, Kes handed Tuvok a padd. We all  
wondered what was on it, including Tuvok. He activated it and  
read the beginning out loud, realizing, I think, that we were as  
curious as he was. It said, "Tuvok, this a collection of jokes. I  
hope it will help you to understand human humor a little better.  
Live long and prosper. Tom Paris." Tuvok didn't say anything when  
he finished reading, but I think he appreciated it.  
  
Then it was the Doctor's turn. Tom had left him several disks and  
some chewing gum. Kes told the doctor that the disks contained  
all of Tom's secret holoprograms. The Doctor's eyes widened at  
this, obviously knowing what kind of programs they were. Kathryn  
asked him about them, but the Doctor refused to tell us. He said  
that they were private programs that Tom had mentioned but never  
shared with anyone; not even Harry.   
  
I thought that it might be some romantic programs, and obviously  
B'Elanna did too because she commented on it. The Doctor turned  
his head and look at her when she said that. Then he very  
seriously told her that there was not one romantic program among  
them. They were some things that Tom had used for himself, as a  
kind of therapy.  
  
After the Doctor had received his things, there weren't anymore,  
which surprised us. Kathryn asked Kes if Tom hadn't left anything  
for her. Kes smiled and told us that he had, but she hadn't  
brought it with her. Then she told us that she had gotten a silk  
blouse, and a table decoration made of lace.  
  
All of the things Tom had left us were thoughtful, some of them  
even humorous, and they were so... *Tom*. There was no doubt that  
every time we looked at our mementos, we'd remember the charming  
and best damned pilot in the Delta Quadrant, also known as Thomas  
Eugene Paris. We also knew that we would miss him.  
  
Now, three years later, we discover that Tom didn't die, but was  
rescued and is waiting for us at a space station called Brass'ka  
and I'm not quite sure how I feel about that. Of course, I'm glad  
that he didn't die. Before he disappeared in the special eddy, we  
had become friends and I've missed him -- we all have. So, yes,  
I'm looking forward to see him and have him returned to Voyager  
here he belongs.  
  
But, I'm also mad at him. For three years we have thought he was  
dead and mourned for him. I know that until we received the news  
that Tom was still alive, Harry Kim still grieved for him. I'm  
*so* mad at him for doing this to us. I know it's unfair of me.  
It wasn't Tom's fault, but a part of me blames him anyway.  
  
So, I'm not sure how I'll react when I see him. I think that  
either I'll grab him in a bear hug, or else I'll deck him. I just  
don't know which.  
  
***  
  
3 years earlier  
  
It had been a week since Tom Paris had arrived on Brass'ka. He  
had passed the first three days in the Med Center, healing  
physically and getting over the shock that once again ripped away  
from his home. Being propelled into the Delta Quadrant had turned  
out to be a blessing for him. He had been given a second chance.  
Away from prison, he could do what he always wanted to do, fly.  
He also had great friends. It had taken months for many of them  
to accept them. Still, they had. They had become a family. The  
best family he could ever have in his opinion. Now, he was 300  
years away from Voyager and her crew and he missed them.   
  
Faith was strange thing, he thought. He had never really believed  
in it. Hell, he had cursed it for so many years. It had taken  
the life of his friends in an accident *he* been responsible for.  
It had also brought him into the Delta Quadrant, where he, of all  
people, had become Voyager's chief pilot. There had to be a  
reason for his presence of Brass'Ka.  
  
Brass'Ka was a safe harbor in space as its name roughly  
translated to. It was a space station that had opened its doors  
to people of all kinds not even a year before. It was actually  
two distinct stations. Each part was located on different side of  
the Van'ski asteroid belt. They were meant to provide assistance  
to the ships that needed to cross on either side. It was also a  
place where world leaders could come and talk, traders could do  
business, and scientists could collaborate and exchange ideas.   
  
"It's a federation in the making," Tom said, amazed by all of  
what Noel was telling him.  
  
"Yes. There are 320 worlds and communities part of the Axis," his  
new friend added. "It's like the first days of the Federation. Of  
course, there are not many humans or Vulcans around."   
  
"I've been fascinated by Earth space exploration history from its   
beginnings in the 20th century, for as long as I can remember,"  
Tom admitted. "I always wondered what it felt like."  
  
"Now is your chance," Noel said. "We could use someone like you.  
We are always in need of good pilots that can guide ships through  
the belt. What do you say?"  
  
"Well, it's not like taking off by myself to reach Voyager would   
make sense," Tom replied thoughtfully. "This place is also on its  
course to the Alpha Quadrant."  
  
"They're bound to pass by Brass'Ka eventually," Noel agreed.   
"Maybe you'll be able to help them once they've arrived into the  
Axis' jurisdiction. God knows what will happen from now until  
then."   
  
"I hope so," Tom contemplated for a moment. Then, he sighed  
heavily as the reality of who he really was drawn on him. "Noel,  
I have to tell you something about me before we even go further."  
his new friend returned his serious expression. "It's about what  
I did in the past."   
  
"Can it be worse than being an ex-Borg?" Noel challenged with a  
small smile.  
  
"I don't know. You tell me."  
  
"If it's about Caldik Prime and your stay in prison, I already  
learned that from your file that I found in the shuttle database.  
I'm glad that you mention it though. The director likes people  
that are honest and forthcoming. Don't worry."  
  
"Thanks, Noel."  
  
Tom had rapidly made a name for himself as he joined the piloting  
team. His excellent piloting skills, his experience, and his  
medical training had been quickly noticed. He had become the  
leader of the rescue squad in less than three months. His first  
project with Noel had been to design a new type of shuttlecraft  
which would made their rescue effort more efficient in the  
asteroid belt. They had called the end result the Sentry. The  
little ambulance had somewhat of a Federation look of speed and   
manoeuverability . It could treat 50 injured passengers and ferry  
20 more. It was armed and shielded with Borg technology. It was  
also equipped with transporters, replicators, and a tractor beam.  
By the of the end year, the Sentry had become a class of its own,  
with four new ships constructed.  
  
***  
  
B'Elanna Torres' Personal log  
  
The Pig is alive. I can't wait to put my hands on him. I'll rip  
his heart out. He won't know what will hit him! This time, he  
will stay dead. I'll make sure of that.  
  
The first time he died, after that warp 10 experiment, he and I  
had only started to be friends. Sure, I was sad when we thought  
he had passed away. Tom was a good guy, even though Tom never  
made things easy to help change what people thought of him. Yet,  
I was only starting to realize just how wrong I had been about  
him.  
  
The second time he died - well he didn't really, did he? When he  
disappeared, things were totally different. It broke my heart.  
Oh, who am I kidding? I was devastated. See, then we were moving  
beyond friendship. We weren't dating or anything. But God, did I  
ever wished we had been. I don't think his disappearance would  
have hurt me more if we had been. This wonderful man who tried  
make me laugh, to give me a social life, to make me feel   
attractive, and most of all to make me feel better about myself  
disappeared right in front of my eyes one day. There was nothing  
I could do help him. He vanished before I had the chance to tell  
him that I loved him.  
  
Yes, I fell in love with the Pig.  
  
Tom was always there for me even if I was rude and aggressive  
towards him. He always respected me. Sometimes, he did dispute  
the cause of my temper tantrums, but he never questioned my  
nature. He welcomed it. He accepted *me*.  
  
Then he left me.  
  
How dare he?! For weeks I resented him for disappearing like  
that, for leaving me before I could tell him that I loved him.  
For weeks I refused to believed that he had died. I dreamed every  
night that he would come back to me so that I could tell him how  
I felt. I fantasized that he would swept me off my feet and that  
we would make passionate love. I guess that part of my dream is  
coming true: Tom is coming back to us. However, is it too late  
for the love part?  
  
It probably is. I moved on over the years as he must have. I  
wonder if he is still the same. He changed a lot during his stay  
on Voyager. He became less bitter and a lot more confident with  
his relationships with people. Wonder if he has a girlfriend?  
  
***  
  
TBC  
  
End of Part 1  
  
Synbou and Leone thank you for reading. Feedback is always  
appreciated at synbou@hotmail.com  
  
Our thanks to PJ in NH, Elli and Zappy Zaps for their inputs.  
  
Copyrights @ May 2002 


	2. Chapter 2

Series: Voyager

Seasons: 3 & 6

Pairing: P, All Part: 2? - WIP

Rating: PG

SYNOPSIS: AU. Alternate ending to Real Life, Tom fails to get out of the astro-eddy and disappear in front of the bridge crew.

Brass'Ka, part 2  
By Synbou

2 years earlier:

"We'll have to reopen D38," the Ops Team Leader stated. "It is comparable to D12."

"No-no, no way" Tom fired back in response to Doum'bry's Conclusion.

Several members of Brass'ka senior's staff were gather around the Ops main monitor screen. On it, a map of the Van'ski asteroid belt was displayed. This chaotic and dangerous area of space had been divided into long corridors of various sizes, referred to as districts, or simply D, by the Ops personnel.

The districts stretched from one side of the belt to the other. They divided into possible traveling routes through the belt,  
areas that were too dangerous to venture into, were undeveloped, or out of Brass'Ka's jurisdiction all together.

A few the dangerous stretches were flashing in red on the main view-screen and were the main reason for the management team impromptu meeting.

"Em'Aris, I am not coming back on my word," Tom said, turning to Brass'ka's Director. "I told the Herogens they could have D38 for their sordid little game and that's what they have. If I come back on my word, the entire sector will become the Herogens's Happy Hunting Grounds and yours truly will be their prey. Before you know it, I'll be dead, my organs will have been sold away to the Vidiians, and they'll use my bones for scrimshaw. No, thanks!"

Noel chuckled. "He's right, you know."

"Thank you, Noel," Tom replied.

"Scrim-shaw?" asked Em'Aris.

"Sorry," Tom apologized to those who were unfamiliar with that part of Earth history. "Scrimshaw was a form of craft sailors back home were doing during their idle time a few centuries ago. They didn't have much on hand, at sea, so they made carvings using bones and teeth of whales or other animals they had hunted.  
Sounds familiar?"

Em'Aris nodded; his fat head seemed ready to roll off his rounded shoulders. "The trophies the Herogeans keeps from their hunt. Scrimshaw, indeed. Well," he said, coming back to the current problem. "If we keep D38 closed and maintain Red Flags on D11 to D14 how do we redirect traffic so that we can honor our agreements?"

"Midrange vessels normally traveling through large districts will have to be redirected to Medium districts," Tom said.

"We'll that would be nice," Doum'bry commented a bit too smugly. "But, don't they go through a large D instead of Midrange for a reason?"

"They do," Tom replied, forcing himself to ignore Doum'bry's mocking attitude. "Their pilots are usually not trained to travel through midrange districts and we don't have enough staff to pilot them through. However, we do have remote support working now."

"It's working on our ships, Tom," Noel reminded him. "We haven't tried on the travelers, yet. Besides, I doubt most of them will be eager to give us control of their ship's commands just like that."

"Noel, they already do when we come on board to pilot their ships through the belt," Tom argued. "As for the possible violations of their security argument, we will have to be very explicit about the technology that we use, its function, and its limits. I'll admit, it's not going to go with everybody. However, if we could just get a few ship captains to go along for now, it would be very helpful."

"We hadn't planned to propose this option to Travelers so soon, but it has to be done sooner or later. We developed remote support for situations like the one we have today. Besides, not only have we already demonstrated that by remotely accessing ship navigational arrays we can get to people in trouble quicker and safely, it's efficient and cost-effective. Trust me, just for that, they'll love it!" Tom added.

"He knows how to make a sale pitch, doesn't he?" Noel commented.

"Yes," Em'Aris had to agree. "Who do you think would go for it?"

"I've got a few names in mind and one or two favors to collect. Give me an hour. Meanwhile, stay in stage 2 alert and keep the large carriers moving in the LDs."

"All right," Em'Aris granted. "You have one hour."

"Meanwhile, we will try to find a better alternative," Doum'bry added.

"Fine," Tom said as he started to make his way to his workstation at the back of the room.

Noel exchanged a look with Em'Aris and shook his head. He then ran to catch up with the Duty Field Manager. From his desk, located on the upper step of the split-level room, Tom could see the main view screen perfectly as well as all the board operators looking after the flow of traffic in their respective districts.

"Now, that was impressive," Noel remarked simply.

Tom looked down towards the Ops Team Leader with mark animosity.

"Scrimshaw is what I'm gonna do with Doum'bry's teeth if he questions my authority in front of Em'Aris again.

"I had a feeling you would say something like that," Noel said with a sympathetic smile.

"And I thought I had problems with authority," Tom pointed out. "The belt is under my jurisdiction now. He better learn to live with it sooner rather than later."

Present time:

"Captain, we are now in range of the Van'ski Asteroid Belt" Ensign Harry Kim informed Kathryn Janeway from the Ops Station.

Finally! she thought with relief.

"Thank you, Mr. Kim," she replied. She took a calming breath before giving her next order. She was filled with anticipation at the thought of meeting with a former colleague - an old friend. Voyager had lost too many members of its family over the last six years, being reunited with one is blessing.

Janeway quickly glanced at the screen beside her seat and took in the size of this gigantic fence through space. The range of the Van'ski's Asteroid belt was incredible! Trying to go around it would take at least two months at maximum warp. Going across, on the other hand, could take the Starfleet vessel only four hours. There was no doubt in Janeway's mind which path Voyager should take if its crew ever wanted to get home.

That said, in order to go across, Voyager would require the authorization of the Van'ski Traffic Authorities. The belt was a dangerous place to travel through. Not only was it dense, spatial eddies were common occurrences. Voyager would need the skills of a highly trained pilot, someone who knew this field inside out. They would need a pilot such as Tom Paris.

"Captain, we are being hailed," Harry alerted her.

Janeway exchanged a smile with Commander Chakotay. "On screen, Mr. Kim."

"Captain Janeway, I am Director Em'Aris of the Brass'Ka Alliance. Welcome to the Van'ski sector. We have been awaiting your arrival with great anticipation."

"Thank you, Mr. Director. It's good to finally meet you."

"Tom would have liked to be the first one to greet you, however his duties have pulled him away from this area for a few hours.  
He and his team should be back to our relay station Haynis'ka very soon. The station is only three light years away from your current position. I would suggest you meet him there. I'm sure Tom will be more than happy to guide you across the Belt to Brass'ka."

"I'm sure he will be, Mr. Director," she agreed.

"I will transmit the coordinates to you right away."

"Thank you," she replied with a smile. "We are looking forward to meet you in person."

"Likewise," Em'Aris simply said.

"The coordinates have been received, Captain," Kim informed her.

"Helm, plot a course and engage," the Captain ordered.

"Aye-aye, Captain," Pablo Baytard acknowledged.

"Safe trip, Captain," Em'Aris wished in them with a sincere smile.

"Thank you again, Mr. Director. See you soon".

The main view screen was momentarily replaced by an external view of the Van'ski Asteroid Belt. Once again, Janeway was taken aback by its size and beauty.

2 years earlier,

Tom looked up from his workstation as he heard a group of people coming in the large room. He noticed that other controllers were packing up their personal belongings as they were ready to leave for the night. It was late, at least for him, and the third shift of Brass'ka working schedule was about to beginning. For the forth time this week, Tom had pulled a double shift despite himself.

As Brass'ka kept on expending its range of activities, so did its staff responsibilities. As senior Duty Field Manager, Tom needed to be kept appraised of each district status. Were they open or close? Was traffic progressing normally? Were there reports of special eddies, if so how strong and recurrent were they? Were all the servers allowing them remote control working? Which member of his staff was working where and doing what?

Tom was now managing four different teams: the flight field crew,  
the flight remote crew, Development and maintenance, and emergency services. Many people on these teams were cross trained, which made his life a bit a easier. Still, despite all the help of his team leaders, Doum'bry, Noel, and Tah'hid, his duties were starting to take over his life.

Sometimes, he wished Captain Janeway was there to give him some advised. How did she cope with being the captain of the only Starfleet crew, a mixed one at that, in the Delta Quadrant? On days like these, when he was working over sixteen hours, he was wondering what his friends Harry and B'Elanna would think of his lack of social life? What would Chakotay and the Doc say about his acquired assiduous behaviour? What would his father say?

He would probably say that you are bound to screw up sooner or later, a little voice inside his head answered.

Tom shook his head as he pushed the negative memory of his father away. "Don't go there. You're doing great."

"You're doing great, but isn't time for bed?

Tom looked up startled. "Em'Aris. Sir, please don't sneak up on me like that. You'll give me a heart attack!"

"My apologies, Thomas" Em'Aris said. Like his father, Em'Aris was in the habit of using Thomas and not the short form of the name. Unlike his father, however, the Director used it on a much more positive and respectful tone. "I was returning home from a charming evening in the company of the Wemdu delegation," Em'Aris continued. "And I decided to drop by before turning in. It is late, what are you still doing here?"

"I am working on a new navigational partition that will give Bambakian class 4 transports access to the remote support system.  
It's due tomorrow. I started this a week ago, but then got sidetracked."

"Because of the incident in D12," Em'Aris pointed out.

"Yeah," Tom simply replied.

"Is it not one of Tah'Hid's team responsibility to write the partition," Em'Aris challenged.

"Yes, but Tah'Hid's team is under my responsibilities. Besides, enjoy writing them too."

"Among other things," Em'Aris vaguely added.

Tom only nodded.

There was something in Em'Aris's tone that struck a nerve. Maybe Tom was simply tired and a bit overwhelmed, still he felt the conversation was about to take a turned that he doubted he would like. It suddenly made him questioned Em'Aris's motives behind this unannounced visit.

Did Em'Aris think he was not up to the task anymore? The Director would not be the first one to loose confidence in Tom's abilities. His father had always been on the top of that list. Stop thinking about you old man! It never did you any good, he reminded himself. Again, he quickly pushed his father out of his thought.

Still...

Although Tom felt good about his performance as DFM, he knew that his lack of management and command experience was sometimes painfully obvious. This was mainly his fault. Until now, he had stayed as far away as possible from command positions.

Interestingly, as much as he blamed his father for his negative reactance to command, he had to credit Captain Janeway for his renewed faith in himself and his abilities as a leader. As he quickly continued to assess E'Amis's true intentions, he wondered if he had been wrong about his level of performance all these months.

"I know. Working on this project at the last minute doesn't demonstrate good management skills. I apologies," he said, trying to let his superior know that he was aware of the problem. "I could probably use some tips from Taun'die. I have never seen someone so well organized in my life!"

"Taun'die is the district project leader which you assigned to D12 after the system crashed, is she not?"

"Yes that's her. She's only been in this role for less than a year, but she is already on the top of her game. She's organized and systematic, effective and a genius at thinking outside the box. She's good with people. I know she can handle any crisis I send her. She has a lot of potential. She's promotion material. We don't want to loose track of her."

As Tom let the Director consider his last comments, he wondered if it was wise to send the conversation in another direction.  
Focusing the discussion on somebody else, would not change whatever Em'Aris thought of him and his competencies.

It was ironic that he was thinking of giving someone a promotion, when he, himself, was afraid of being dismissed. It was a protective mechanism of some sort. He remembered doing things like that in the past. Although this time, he doubted that anticipating the worse in order to better shield himself from the bad news would really made him feel better. He had been giving too much of himself already.

This is foolish, he told himself. Taun'die's good, but she isn't trained to take over his position, yet. No body is!

"It is interesting that you bring up this idea, Thomas," Em'Aris told him. "I read several comments about Taun'die's performance in your previous reports, and I am actually considering giving her a promotion. I wanted to discuss the matter with you before doing so."

Tom felt another nudge in the pit of his stomach. He tried to mask his nervousness as best he could.

"What do you have in mind?" he asked with a confidence and a coolness he did not felt.

"As you said, Taun'die could probably give you good suggestions in improving your organizational skills. However, I doubt that better organizational skills would change the fact that the DFM is overworked and needs an assistant."

"You want Taun'die to be my assistant?" Tom asked, putting two and two together and hoping he would not come up with five.

"You see an issue with this proposition?" Em'Aris inquired.

"I would be crazy if I was," Tom replied with immense relief. Not only could he use an assistant, he could not ask for a better assistant than Taun'die. "Tank you Em'Aris," he added sincerely. "Taun'die's help would be invaluable."

"I think so too," Em'Aris said. "You are doing excellent work, Thomas. However, you will not be able to continue if we burn you out. I know you have a heavy workload and that you always go above and beyond to meet the increases in demands, as you are doing now to honour the Bambakian agreement. If you keep on working double shifts and over most of the days, we'll end up with an exhausted DFM.

"That wouldn't be good," Tom commented, with a side grin.

"No, it would not," Em'Aris concurred. "This is why I am ordering you to bed, now. I do not want to see you roaming around before midday tomorrow. Whatever you have to do, we'll have to wait until then. As for you new assistant, we will also finalize this issue tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Tom conceded. "Em'Aris, thank you."

"You are welcome, Thomas. Sleep well."

Present Time

The members of Voyager's away team took their places on the transporter platform. Janeway assumed her leadership by standing in the Center. Her second in command, stood to her right. B'Elanna was to their left. Harry, Neelix and the Doctor stood behind them.

"Nervous?" Chakotay asked his colleagues.

"You could say that," Harry replied. "You think he's looking forward to see us too?"

"What do you think?" B'Elanna challenged him in return.

"I'll admit Mr. Paris has been through great lengths to get the word out there that he was looking for Voyager," the EMH pointed out.

"Not only that, but to insure Voyager's safety as well," Janeway added.

"He sure seems to have made a lot of good friends," Neelix commented happily.

"Tom is a good man," Harry sayed with conviction.

"Yes, he is," Chakotay agreed. "I regret it took me so long to realize that. Our friendship was short lived."

"Not short lived, Commander," Janeway told him. "Just put on hold for awhile. It's time to reunite this family, wouldn't you think?"

She was right.

Janeway turns to Tuvok. "Energized, Commander."

2 years earlier

The beeping sound announcing an incoming call kept on ringing.  
Tom sighed as he identified what had torn him away from the comfort of sleep.

"You better get that," the woman lying next to him said sleepily. "I doubt that the caller is going to give up."

Tom yawned. "Didn't hurt to hope so," he told her as he brought himself into a sitting position by the side of the bed. He rubbed his face to wipe away the drowsiness. He peaked at the old fashion clock on the night stand. "Go back to sleep. It's very early... Way too early..."

The beeping sound persisted.

"Alright, alright, I'm awake." He mumbled as he made is way to the computer consol to answer the call. "Taun'die," he acknowledged his newly appointed assistant.

Taun'die had been his Operation Manager for at least two weeks now, and she was proving to be a blessing. The only thing annoying was the realization that her calls would always mean trouble. If Taun'die could not deal with whatever problem they were facing, it meant he that would have to expect the worse.

"Sorry to wake you," she apologized.

"That's okay, I'm use to it," he waved away her apology. "What's going on?"

"Another Borg sphere appeared in D-12. The remote system crashed 38 seconds later. There is no way of knowing from here if it is active or not," she answered cutting to the chase.

Big trouble, indeed, he thought. "I'll be right there," he assured her, now fully awake.

As he got ready, he considered the possible implications. What concerned the DFM the most was that, somewhere out there, a race had decided to go head to head with the Borg, and Vans'ki appeared to be on the receiving end of it.

A shiver ran up his spine as he recalled finding hundred of agonizing Drones partially dismantled by something they now referred to as Nanophaged. No matter what people thought of the Borg, the living being hidden behind the machinery did not deserve such a fate.

As he left his apartment, he wondered if it would be wise to bring Noel along. Their last rescue mission (make that salvage operation) in D-12 had proven difficult on his ex-Borg friend.

TBC

End of Part 2

A/N: We know, this story was also over due... We hope you enjoyed this transition part. There will be more soon.

Synbou would like to thank Maxine for her support.

Feedback is always appreciated.

April 2005


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